


Road Trip

by italics_of_uncertainty



Series: The Impala [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Car Sex, Daddy Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, Inanimate Object Porn, Incest, M/M, Masturbation, Mild Kink, Oral Sex, Public Sex, Sex, Sex in a Car, Sibling Incest, Siblings, Sleepiness, Sleepy Sex, Tired Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 17:53:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6817966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/italics_of_uncertainty/pseuds/italics_of_uncertainty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The whole fandom ships Dean/Impala. I'm just doing my small part to encourage that kink. Entirely unrepentant brother-fucking, a little moment of daddy-kink, and -- of course -- Dean being a perv about the Impala.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Road Trip

They’re on yet another cross-country drive, long winding highways, a blacktop path cut through the middle of nowhere. It’s late, past midnight at least, and Dean has finally dozed off when Sam pulls off onto a dirt road, the sudden crunch of gravel and bumpy ride jolts him into a lighter sleep, but he doesn’t bother to really wake up; Sammy pulls over every couple of hours for a piss or to just stretch his legs. It’s when Sam doesn’t actually get out of the car, and Dean feels him shifting around, hears that soft sigh and the sound of his zipper, that Dean finally cracks one eye, mildly curious. 

Sam’s jeans are down around his ankles, and he’s just toying with his cock, perfect and flushed an aching pink, slick with lube, fingers tracing idly across his slit, trailing precum down the head and shaft, hips rocking up to meet his hand on the downstroke; he’s biting his lip, eyes closed, moving slow and looking like he’s planning on being here for a while. Dean’s mouth floods with desire and he stretches, taking a deep breath, making himself wake up. Sam looks over, and his eyes are shot black with lust. He reaches out and threads his fingers through Dean’s hair, dragging him across the seat so he can pull him into a deep, wet kiss, licking at his mouth, sucking at his lip, moaning softly with every breath. When Sam finally lets him go, Dean is almost panting for breath, and his cock is uncomfortably hard, straining against his jeans. 

“Take your clothes off,” Sam’s voice is low and dusky, and he slides down in the seat, resting his head against the seatback, stroking himself as he turns to watch Dean undress. 

Dean swallows back a whimper, but his hands are already on his fly, and he’s shimmying out of his jeans, kicking his boots off before he even realizes he’s moved. He’s still drowsy, but his body knows what to do. Sam leans over and grabs the hem of Dean’s teeshirt for him, pulling it up over his shoulders as he shrugs out of it and tosses it on the floorboard. 

Sam coaxes him onto his hands and knees so that he’s kneeling on the bench seat, and then with a fond, almost indolent look, like they do this every night, threads his fingers through Dean’s hair and slowly pulls his head down. Dean lets himself be guided, and he nuzzles against Sam’s cock, rubbing his cheek against the length of it, burying his nose in the soft bramble of his pubes, inhaling the scent of him, all sweat and musk and cheap cologne. 

Sam strokes his hand along Dean’s spine, trailing his fingers up and along the curve of his ass, and that’s when he realizes how exposed he is, and he can’t help but imagine how it must look, his ass peeking above the dash, skin pale gooseflesh in the moonlight. He pulls his legs together a bit and crouches down, feeling self-conscious, but Sam pets him, whispering, “Mm nnm, wanna look at you.” 

Dean shivers, though not so much from the cold night air that pricks at his nipples as from the way Sam is gazing down at him. The vinyl of the seat is icy beneath his knees, soft and yielding except where the seams dig into his skin, and he leans into it, lowering himself to his forearms. He takes a deep breath and straightens his back, trying to remember that there’s no one around for miles and miles, and even if there were, it’s impossible to see much beyond the highway, flanked as it is by an almost endless sea of cornfields. 

Sam almost purrs with satisfaction, shifting to rub his cock against Dean’s lips, whispering, “Go on, have a taste.”

Dean flicks his tongue across the head of Sam’s cock, tastes the bland sweetness of the lube, the slick bitterness of his precum, and he can’t help but sigh. Sam’s hips twitch with anticipation, and whatever lingering tiredness might have been clouding Dean’s mind evaporates, replaced with nothing but want. He swallows Sam right down to the hilt, shuddering as he fights against his gag reflex, and Sam moans softly, arching up against his mouth. 

He loves it, loves letting his brother use his mouth like this, loves the way Sam fucks his throat slow and easy, sighing and groaning and dragging out every stroke, like they have all the time in the world, like he expects Dean to just take it for as long as he wants to make it last, no matter how tired he might be, how much his jaw might ache. His cock is hanging heavy between his legs, he can already feel the precum leaking from his slit, dripping along his thigh, and he reaches down, shuddering and bucking into his grip as he squeezes at the head of his cock. 

“Not yet,” Sam whispers, “I want you desperate for me when I fuck you.” 

Dean moans, breaking into an anguished, needy sort of whine as he forces himself to take his hand off his cock. He’s already so hard he can barely think, and he clutches at Sam’s thigh, just to have something to hold on to. He tries to breathe, long deep breaths to pull himself together, but it’s not much use, he’s so turned on just thinking about it that he can hardly endure the reality. 

Sam just rests his hand against the back of Dean’s neck, cradling his head, holding him in place as he thrusts deep, throwing his head back to moan low and open mouthed, shuddering and stock still, his cock halfway down Dean’s throat. Dean can feel just how near he is to that edge, how little it would take to push him over, and he almost does it, but Sam suddenly knots his fingers in his hair and drags him off, shuddering. 

“Oh, that’s so good,” Sam whispers, and his voice is shaky, “Now spread your legs for me…”

Dean groans, but he spreads his legs as far as he can on the narrow bench and bows his back, trying to put his ass further in the air. Sam leans over and slides his hand down Dean’s spine, along the curve of his ass, dipping his fingers between Dean’s legs. His touch is maddeningly warm against Dean’s skin, making him twitch and shiver with every little caress, but Sam just teases, never penetrating him, fingers there and then gone again, tantalizing and not nearly enough, working him up until he’s trembling, desperate and arching back against Sam’s hand, almost begging for more. 

When Sam has finally had enough of torturing him, he settles back against the seat with a satisfied sigh as he gets comfortable again. Dean whimpers to lose that touch, but Sam just licks his lips and gazes down at him, fisting his cock as he whispers, “Now come sit on Daddy’s lap.”

It’s like a punch to the gut; Dean had no idea this could be any more wrong, any more vulgar, and now he’s half-blind with nothing but pure, unadulterated lust. He can feel his heartbeat in his cock, throbbing and insistent, and before he lets himself think about it, he finds he’s crawling over to straddle Sam’s lap, kneeling as he leans back against his chest, and his brother is cradling him in his arms, whispering, “…such a good boy.”

Dean laughs, but it’s a broken, desperate sound, and his voice cracks as he says, “You’re a sick fuck, you know that?”

“You love it,” Sam purrs, nipping at his shoulder before pushing him forward, making him lean against the steering wheel.

Dean drapes his arm across the steering wheel, curling his fingers against the moulded ridges, perfectly sized and spaced for his hands, as if this car was made for him, purpose-built to fit. The bakelite slowly warms beneath his touch, solid and reassuring. He leans his head against his forearm, and waits. He can hear Sam slicking his cock, the plastic click of the cap as he closes the bottle, but instead of the gentle press of wet, slender fingers, he feels the silken kiss of Sam’s cock, hard and insistent between his legs. He shudders, trying to make himself relax. He’s nearly quivering with anticipation, and he wants it so much, but he’s nowhere near ready to be fucked, and he whines, biting his lip. 

Sam just rubs the head of his cock against Dean’s ass, whispering, “You can take it.”

Dean moans, burying his face in the crook of his elbow. His thighs are starting to burn, he’s trembling all over, and he hardly feels like he has the strength to take it slow, much less the will, but he closes his eyes, bracing himself against the dash, and starts to lower himself on to his brother’s cock. He exhales slowly, trying to breathe into the burn, but all too soon his hips jerk to a halt at the sudden, undeniable pain, and he whimpers, clutching at the dash, trying to keep still.

“Ssh,” Sam says, slowly pulling back before thrusting ever so slightly, working him open with steady, even strokes. Dean shivers, nipples pricking as they brush against the cold bakelite of the steering wheel, that hand on the dash now pressed against the windshield in a vain attempt at leverage, but ever so slowly, ever so gently, Sam works the head of his cock into him, and as that slow stretch finally lets up just a little, Dean moans with relief, sinking down and taking as much as he can before his body rebels again, making him gasp and go stiff, shuddering to keep still, breathing sharply through clenched teeth. 

Sam reaches between them, his warm, slick fingers rubbing at aching, sore flesh. It’s both soothing and the most excruciating tease Dean can imagine, because it just makes him want more, makes him want not just his cock but those fingers inside him too, makes him want to be stretched until he can’t take anymore and fucked until he’s white-knuckled and hoarse from sobbing. Sam rocks his hips, and Dean’s body finally surrenders, giving way as he sinks down on that hard length with a low moan and a shudder. Sam pulls him into his lap, dragging him down to lean back against his chest, to rest his head on his shoulder. Dean was wiped out when he settled in to sleep, and he’s feeling it again now in spades, a thick sort of creeping haze that makes him feel like he’s trying to swim through a deep fog, his limbs leaden, head heavy and muddled. He closes his eyes, turning to nuzzle against Sam’s neck, lips brushing against the stubble of a long, hard day. 

Sam cradles him in his arms, rocking up against him, pushing so deep without even trying, that soon Dean is almost whimpering with every thrust. He’s so tired can hardly move, and he just takes it, drifting on a swirling, delirious mix of pleasure and exhaustion, shuddering now and again as Sam pushes particularly deep. 

Sam makes a soft sound and spreads his legs, making Dean shift and spread his legs too, opening him up even further; the angle is perfect, and Dean sinks so deep onto Sam’s thick cock he actually sees stars. Sam arches, pushing even deeper, and Dean cries out, grasping for the steering wheel, those supple curves straining beneath his grip, and that’s the feeling he holds on to as Sam splits him on his cock; hard and familiar, worn perfectly smooth over the years, burnished beneath his palms. He only realizes he’s struggling when Sam wraps his arm around his waist, pulling him back down onto his cock again, and Dean just shatters at the deep press of that unyielding weight, sobbing with an aching pleasure, gasping for breath as he rests his forehead against the steering wheel. 

“That’s it,” Sam whispers, leaning forward to rest his head against Dean’s shoulder, “Take it,” he rocks his hips, drawing a shuddering gasp out of him, “Take every inch of my cock…”

Dean whines, trembling, but Sam reaches out, takes his hand and presses it against the instrument panel, pressing his fingers against the glass and chrome display, making him slowly trace those graceful circles. He digs his fingers in against the hard ridge of chrome around the speedometer, the glass warming beneath his touch, gripping the steering wheel tight with his other hand, loving the slow creak of the resin as he leans against it. 

Sam slides his hand down between Dean’s legs, gripping his cock, stroking him as he fucks him, shifting so that the head of Dean’s cock rubs against the bottom of the steering wheel, cold and unyielding with every stroke. 

Sam’s breath is hot against the back of his neck as he whispers, “When you come, it’s gonna splash all over everything…” Dean moans at the though; white cum spilling across glass and chrome, sticky splatter slowly dripping down black plastic, pooling in the cracks. Sam strokes him harder, squeezing at the head of his cock as he thrusts into him, “It’s gonna be all over the steering wheel…” and Dean can almost see it, the emblem sullied with his cum, shining wet and trapped in the grooves, “Gonna be on my hand, on your thighs, dripping down your balls onto the seat,” Dean shudders, thinking about hot cum on cold vinyl, slippery and sticky and smeared against his skin, and he feels himself trembling, achingly close. 

Sam is fucking him hard now, making him just give in and ride his cock, every thrust jolting him against the steering wheel, making him brace up against the dash, and he can feel how close Sam is, can hear him gasping and moaning with every breath as he says, “Gonna come Dean, gonna come in your ass, and then I’m gonna pull out and let it spill everywhere…” and that’s the image that does it, of his brother’s cum leaking out of his ass, dripping down Sam’s balls, spreading white and thick across the seat beneath him. He comes so hard it knocks the breath from him, a loud shout of a moan, and then that sublime, overwhelming rush of relief as his entire consciousness centers down deep in his balls and comes pouring out of his cock, leaving him slumped over the steering wheel, whole body tingling with it as he feels Sam moan low against the back of his neck, cum spurting deep inside him, warm and slick and so satisfying. 

Sam leans against him, breathing deep, and then slowly sighs, letting his head fall back against the seat. Dean leans back against him, and it’s an awkward angle, not going to be comfortable for very long, but it’s good, being wrapped in those arms, listening to his brother’s breathing. 

It’s a little less sexy getting cum out of the instrument panel than it was putting it there; he’s scrubbing off stray streaks for a few days, but every time he notices another, pulls off the road and licks his thumb, wiping at the glass, his cock gets so hard at the memory that he has to unzip his jeans just to get comfortable. If Sam happens to notice and reaches over, slips his hand into his boxers, and jerks him off as he’s driving, well, that’s just a bonus.


End file.
